


dismantle the sun

by starsandgutters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgutters/pseuds/starsandgutters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel screams his voice shatters the windows for miles around, the human vessel no longer able to contain it.<br/>(AU for season 9)</p>
            </blockquote>





	dismantle the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr as "For nothing now can ever come to any good".

Castiel kneels on the battlefield, cradling Dean’s bloodied, lifeless body.

The fighting still rages around them in chaotic spurts, because killing Abaddon didn’t mean ending the war, but Castiel can’t care about that. The First Blade and his own angel blade lie forgotten and useless on the ground. He can see Sam and Charlie running towards them - towards him - as if in slow motion, faces wild and grief-stricken. It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t  _matter_.

When Castiel screams his voice shatters the windows for miles around, the human vessel no longer able to contain it.

Three sets of wings beat frantically, whipping up maelstroms of mixed dust and gore. Sam is holding his hands over his ears - his bleeding ears - yelling for him to  _stop_ , but it’s so hard to care. Yet these are his friends and Castiel silences his howl in favour of tipping his head forward, touching his forehead to a spray of freckles on too-pale skin. He still holds the body - Dean’s body - like a savage, torn-up Pietà. It doesn’t matter. Dean’s soul is gone. Lost to him forever, for angels don’t inhabit Heaven, not in the same way that human souls do.

 _For this?_  He made himself fall, for this? To have nothing?

(He’d do it all over again).

Grace burns inside him threatening to spill over like lava, like lightning, like divine wrath. He  _is_  wrath.

He stands, demons dropping dead around him without even the effort of touch. The sky is heavy with churning black clouds, and he will see them break before battle is over. Let it rain blood and sulfur on this cursed ground. Let fire and destruction sweep over the filth who dared put out the brightest light Castiel has ever known.  _Quasb qaa, lap balit olora i do teloch._

(When he goes nova, fire-white light exploding out of his core and past his vessel to sweep the battlefield clean, the dying shrieks of the unholy are nothing to him, for he only has Dean’s laugh in his ears.)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Auden’s “Funeral Blues”. The Enochian loosely translates to “Destroy creation, for the Righteous Man is dead.” The Enochian Dictionary has no specific word for “dead”, so I used the periphrastic “in death”; also, there are several synonims for “man”, but I chose the one that sounded more tender and familiar to me. Because deancas. And because I’m a sap.
> 
> You know something has gone horribly wrong when epic playlists that are supposed to motivate studying just give you tragic feels instead, and you end up writing down chunks of nonsensical Enochian text. This was originally scribbled down frantically and emotion-wreckingly in my phone notes and then sent as a Whatsapp message to [Yasmine](http://ethicalmadness.tumblr.com), who has been awesome about it, as is her custom. <3


End file.
